Maintenance
by Scarbie
Summary: Chapter 7-- Jet's a likable guy. Even Tommy treats him half-way decently. Vagrant StoryEscaflowneCowboy Bebop crossover contains some spoilers
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I see everyone else has one of these so here it goes. I do not own any characters from Escaflowne, Cowboy Bebop, or Vagrant Story. The fly is mine though.

Maintenance Prologue

It was a bright Wednesday afternoon. The sky was such a brilliant blue with clouds so white and fluffy that one's eyes almost ignored the rocky and ravaged terrain. Off in the distance a small square two-story building with large blue block lettering can be seen. Upon closer inspection, it is clearly seen that the sign says Flexco Maintenance Facility and that the building was covered with European style stucco. The large clean windows have periwinkle shades in them. The shades are also partially raised and it appears to be a lobby or waiting room in the front. Overall it was a very neat and clean edifice.

There are no signs of life in this desolate area except for a lone fly on the door pull of one of the glass doors. This fly, let's call him Phillip was bored out of his mind.

"What the heck am I doing out here in the middle of nowhere?" Phillip thought. "I should have stayed on that garbage ship. There's nothing good out here like a rotten piece of meat; Who am I kidding? I would settle for a moldy bagel. It's hot out here too. I wonder if they if they have the AC on in there".

With that said Phillip searched around the door and windows to see if there is any way that he could enter the building. Unfortunately, it was airtight.

"Man I am going to fry out here! There is no way in the world that someone would come out here to this building and open the door. How am I going to get in there?" Phillip asked despairingly.


	2. No shoes

Disclaimer: I see everyone else has one of these so here it goes. I do not own any characters from Escaflowne, Cowboy Bebop, or Vagrant Story

Chapter 1

Just as the fly was pondering how it would get in the building a strange light appeared 20 feet away. 

The fly just stared, thinking that was so cool. "Beam me up Scottie."

The light was like a tubular nimbus of small blue lights. When the color dissipated a thin man with shoulder length blonde hair was seen. The man headed toward the building with a walk that was full of determination and grace. He had the right idea with the apparel he wore considering how hot it was. He was topless and had on low riding black pants. 

"Wait a second those pants are leather and it must be 100 degrees out here!" Phillip thought.

Even more alarming than the fabric of his pants was the fact his arms were metallic and ended with frightfully clawed hands. He reached the door and swung it open.

As the blonde man entered the building so did the fly. Who ever owned the establishment had a fondness for the color blue. The carpeting on the floor was a cornflower blue. The walls were painted a flat white color and had many pictures and posters of images like the sea and landscapes where the sky went on endlessly. The chairs were made of oak and had plush blue leather cushions. The blue-faced wall clock read 12:00. The reception desk in the middle of the room was a beautiful oak semi circle that was decked with the typical things a computer, printer/fax machine. Sitting in a large midnight blue office chair was an overweight man with balding hair and a ponytail, bulging green eyes, and tomato red complexion. On the pocket of his short-sleeved white dress shirt was a nametag that said 'Tommy'. He was sweating profusely and mopping his brow with a handkerchief.

The blonde man approached the desk and smiled at him amiably. The receptionist did not reciprocate in fact he looked at the blonde man with undisguised disdain. The blonde man was unfazed; in fact, his smile became larger.

"Good afternoon sir. I have a 12:30 appointment," the blonde man said, "My name is-"

He was interrupted by the receptionist.

"What do you think this establishment is?" barked the receptionist. "A strip club? You are not properly attired."

The thin man was nonplussed. The receptionist continued and his voice steadily got louder and more insulting.

"You obviously can't read because the sign on the door clearly says that you will not receive any service in your state." Tommy sneered.

Now the blonde man's confusion was wearing off and turning into anger. He looked on the door and saw a small sign the size of a 5 X 7 index card that said:

  
NO SHOES   
NO SHIRT   
NO SERVICE 

"Oh great," the man thought. "This idiot sitting behind his desk wants to feel so important. I could easily cloud his mind and make him think that I'm wearing a shirt, but he put me in a bad mood so I'm going to-. Now let me go outside and get some fresh air before I cast a Banish spell on this peon."

The blonde calmly walked back to the door and exited. Someone watching him would not know that he had murderous thoughts in his mind. The fly was curious about what the thin man would do.

"Man I would not let that fat dude punk me out like that," thought the fly, "I rather deal with the hot air out side than the hot air Tommy is blowing out of his as-."

The fly was not able to complete its train of thought because the blond man started to laugh. It was a musical sound with a dash of something sinister.

"I'm not even going to use magic on the grandstanding dolt. I'm going to use good old-fashioned wit because it is obvious that old Tommy boy is lacking in that department." The blonde man said with glee.

He clapped his metal hands and chuckled softly. He proceeded to the door again. He glanced at the small sign again. "No one speaks to Sydney Losstarot like that and escapes unscathed," he thought, "especially when I tried to be nice in the first place."


	3. Insurance

Chapter 2 

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Cowboy Bebop, Escaflowne, or Vagrant Story

Chapter 2

Sydney, now with a plan reentered the building and so does his unseen companion Phillip. "Tommy you're going to get it now, unless people laugh like that when they're thinking about buying you a Whitman's sampler." the fly thought. "I can't wait to see this." 

"Tommy my friend," Sydney said urbanely, "despite your complimentary appraisal of me, I was able to read the sign you referred to. It said: No shoes, No shirt, No service." 

Tommy looked at Sydney with a self-satisfied smirk. "I told you so," he said smugly, "it looks to me that you still haven't got a shirt." 

Sydney smiled right back because he knew he had the situation under control. Tommy's arrogance gave him the keys to victory. "Don't pat yourself on the back yet Tommy boy." Sydney thought. "Well Tommy any intelligent person could see that the sign had an implied 'and'. _And_ you are an intelligent man, are you not?" 

"Well sure I am!" Tommy said confidently and without hesitation. 

"I rather thought you were. Well since we are on the same wavelength you can see that I am indeed wearing shoes, therefore the sign does not apply to me." He said and at the end kicked out one of his leather boot clad legs. 

"Well... I guess, well I guess so." Tommy stammered. He was dazed by the charismatic explanation and could do nothing but agree. And the man did recognize his intellect so he couldn't be all that bad. 

"Well let's start over shall we, Tommy? 

"Okay what are you here for?" 

"Well my name is Sydney Losstarot and I have a 12:30 appointment with Dr. Smith." 

The clock on the wall currently read 12:16. Phillip from his spot on the wall thought that the situation was a lot tamer than what he imagined but still quite effective. "Good job Mr. Losstarot skillfully played." Phillip said. "Tommy the stupid bastard probably doesn't even know he got played." 

Sydney knew that he did not get down as tough as he wanted to on the pudgy receptionist. But as soon as he walked back in he also picked up a sense of sadness radiating from the man. And try as he might to deny it Sydney isn't completely heartless. 

"Is this your first time here Mr. Losstarot." Tommy asked with trained indifference. 

"Yes it is." 

For a brief moment, Sydney saw true malevolence in Tommy's eyes. "I need you to fill out this form here sir." He handed Sydney a clipboard that had a form with five pages front and back that was typed in small print. Not all the evilness was gone out of Tommy.

"Goldilocks probably doesn't have insurance," Tommy thought. 

Sydney looked at him suspiciously. "Thank you...Tommy." He says speaking to him as an owner would their dog when they made wee-wee on the newspaper instead of the carpet. Sydney decided at that moment that he was going to make Tommy hate his own name by the time he was finished with him. 

Sydney sat down in one of the six chairs and began to fill out the form.

"Okay, let's see here. Name: that's easy. Sex; yes please. Be serious now. Male Age: 33 Father: Aldous Byron Bardorba."

Sydney continued without any trouble until he got to the insurance questions. 

"What insurance do I have?" He vaguely remembered having a conversation about that with Müllenkamp--his cult's namesake--on the astral level. 

****************Flashback*****************

"Sydney dear, I need to speak with you," called a sweet and sultry voice. 

"If your face holds the same beauty as your voice you can do more than speak with me." 

The woman with the beautiful voice revealed herself. She was of a dusky complexion with dark auburn hair that gleamed like garnet. She looked at Sydney with dark hazel eyes. She was indeed very beautiful. 

"GAAHH!" Sydney screamed. "Grandma!" He was so embarrassed. He just tried to put the moves on his great greeaaaaaaat-grandmother on his father's side.

Fortunately for Sydney, Müllenkamp was a laid back woman with a great sense of humor. 

"So do I measure up Sydney?" Müllenkamp joked. 

"My lady you are always a lovely sight to behold, what is it you need to speak about?" 

"Well sweetie, in the last few battles you've had you've been injured pretty badly and there are not many doctors following our cause. Fortunately you have not had to go to the hospital for your injuries." 

Sydney sighed internally. As much as he loves Müllenkamp, at times she can be long-winded. During this time he saw her lips moving but couldn't quite make out the words. 

"What I'm getting at is you need to get some insurance." 

_"Need?_ I will never be afflicted with the ailments that a normal man would. I am immortal you know. I think you worry about me too much." 

Müllenkamp clucked her tongue. "Sydney it is true that you are immortal but invulnerable no. Plus honey you don't understand, it's not how it used to be back in my day. Then if you had the money or you were in serious need it was no problem getting care. Now, if you don't have this insurance people ask you all sorts of questions and you have to go through too many problems. So just on the off chance you do need some medical attention get it and it will save significant time. You need insurance for damn near everything. You never know what might happen." 

"Well... I suppose you are correct." Sydney said doubtfully. "But anyway you mean to tell me that money and need do not take precedence." 

"Let me tell you," Müllenkamp started excitedly, "This man got stabbed in the stomach and he was just bleeding all over the place. Some good Samaritans brought him to the emergency room. The attendants there asked if he had any insurance, which he didn't and they threw him out. On his stomach mind you! And he died an hour later." 

Sydney shivered. "That's mighty harsh." 

"Well these are the days you're living in my dear. I did some research and here are some of the companies." 

They chose an insurance company in about an hour. They then played chess for another two. As usual Müllenkamp kicked his butt. She was no joke when it came to chess. 

****************End Flashback*****************

"Oh yes I remember the name of my insurance is Omnicare." Sydney thought. "Müllenkamp told me to always have access to the card." Sydney then pictured the card in his mind and made it materialize in his left hand. He then turned his attention back to the form. He was currently on the third page and question 40. "Time to finish this. ID#: all right Group#: here it is. Oh look at this! I have a prescription plan." Sydney felt a little ridiculous about being excited about that but he felt he should be getting his money's worth. He came to a peculiar part on the form on question 50. The question read: If you answered yes to this question please skip to number 100. 

"Thank you Müllenkamp for persuading me to get insurance." 

"You're welcome, sweetie," A familiar female voice said in his mind. 

As Sydney was flipping to page 7, he noticed question 75 that read: 

  
Have you had or have any of the following sexually transmitted diseases? (Fill in all that apply)   
  
() Chlamydia   
() Genital Herpes   
() Genital Warts   
() Gonorrhea   
() Syphilis 

And the list went on and on. "Oh my. Let's go to question 100." 

While Sydney continued to fill out the form a humongous shadow passed over the area. 

"I didn't know there was going to be an eclipse today." Tommy remarked. He would have gotten up to look but he was to busy playing FreeCell on the computer. 

Phillip took notice to the change in environment also. He flew to the window and looked out. High in the sky he saw what appeared to be a huge fortress. 

"Oh man it's Castlevania!" he squeaked. 


	4. Awesome

Disclaimer: As much as I would like to I don't own any characters from Vagrant Story, or Escaflowne. I do own Phillip the fly (how depressing). 

Chapter 3

"Oh man it's Castlevania!" Phillip squeaked. For a moment, he was paralyzed with fear and began to plummet to the ground at 9.8 m/s2. Right before he hit the bottom, he regained his composure and flew back up to the window. He also remembered something. He remembered that Castlevania is not real, that it is just a really cool videogame. 

"Well if it's not Castlevania, then what the heck is it?" Phillip wondered. 

"Crap, I shouldn't have moved the four of spades there!" yelled a defeated Tommy. 

Sydney heard the chubby man's outburst and chuckled. He has made significant progress on the form. He currently has his legs crossed with his right ankle resting on his left knee and using his thigh to hold the clipboard. Sydney could make himself feel at home anywhere. Tommy glared at him venomously. 

At the window, Phillip continued to watch the floating fortress. As he watched, he saw an indistinguishable shape come from it. It moved at a downward trajectory and was heading for the Flexco building. As it neared, he saw that it was some kind of jet made up of some silver metal. At the front of this UFO there were flames.

"Dracula definitely didn't have something like this." Phillip thinks.

When it reached the ground it quickly transformed into a humanoid shape. The robot had a pine green upper torso and from that point down it was a gleaming gray color. In the pelvic region, there was a large ruby red stone. At the top of the robots "head" was a crest of silvery-blue hair 

"Dude, that was so cool! That was... that was some straight Optimus Prime-type-shiznik!" Phillip exclaimed. He then proceeds to do the transforming sound. "Whoo! That was tight." 

After Phillip composed himself, he noticed that in the robot's right hand was a figure clothed in black. He couldn't make it out clearly because of the distance between he and it, which was about 30 yards. The robot set the figure down to the ground. The black clad figure then waved at the metallic behemoth. The silver haired robot moved back a several steps and turned back into the jet, and flew away at startling speed. The tall figure looked up as the jet ascended. In a matter of moments, the jet reaches its destination. Amazingly, the floating fortress gradually became invisible. 

"STEALTH MODE...Awwwwwwsome." 


	5. Folken's in the hizzouse

Disclaimer: You know the deal by now. I don't own any characters from Vagrant Story or Escaflowne. 

A/N Okay, I really want to apologize to the 3 people reading my story for the lack of new chapters (especially Kay Noel XD ). College is a pain in the butt especially physics. 

Maintenance Chapter 4

"STEALTH MODE... Awwwwwwsome," Phillip exclaimed reverently. The fly had not seen this much excitement in his whole adolescent life (all twelve days of it). "I wonder who that is, they must be important with a ride like that." 

The black clad figure walked towards the building with a stately stride. As the figure got closer to the building Phillip saw that it was a man that looked to be over six-feet tall. Phillip was unable to see the man's outfit because he was clothed in a black cape that has a large wide deep purple collar, which the man wore upturned. The cloak looked to be made out of fine material. 

"What is that, velvet?" Phillip wondered.

The collar of the cape framed a pale face that was topped by spiky hair that was a shocking aquamarine shade. When the man reached the door Phillip was able to see his features quite clearly. 

"Maybe I wasn't too far off the mark with Castlevania," Phillip stated with apprehension.

The man was very pale and had a rather prominent tattoo on his right cheek; it was a purple tear. He also had purple swept on the outer corners of his russet hued eyes. His ears were adorned with medium sized gold hoops. The man was what many women would call handsome, with an aristocratic but stern face. 

"Heh heh heh, I'm a dumbass! If this dude was a vampire he would have erupted into flames." Phillip felt very foolish right about now. How could he forget about something that basic? Daylight + Vampire = KFC. 

Yet Phillip wasn't totally relieved. When Phillip saw the tear tattoo it brought back a mental image. He recalled seeing a character in a movie called Alien 3 with several tear tattoos. "Boy that was a crappy movie. Whoa...if I'm remembering correctly doesn't a tear tattoo mean you _killed_ somebody?" Phillip thought worriedly. "Maybe he's gonna kill Tommy!" For some odd reason Phillip was no longer alarmed by the man's presence. 

The cloaked man approached the receptionist desk and waited for Tommy to acknowledge his presence. It wasn't working out too well as Tommy's attention was glued to the monitor and the card images found there. 

"Ahem!" The blue haired man cleared his throat quite loudly. 

Tommy slowly turned around in his padded chair to give who he thought was Sydney the _'what for_' for interrupting him . He had a great strategy devised that would enable him to get the seven of hearts right where he needed it. "What do you want now?" he asked annoyed mid-turn. 

"Excuse me?" The tall, cloaked man asked in a pleasant baritone. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else," Tommy apologized insincerely. "Who the _hell_ does this guy think he is," Tommy thought, "Count Dracula?" 

"How may I help you sir?" Tommy asked with all the servility of a dictator. 

"My hand needs repairing," the man stated simply. 

"Is that right?" Tommy said almost mockingly with widened eyes. "Do you have an appointment?" That malignant gleam returned to Tommy's eyes. 

"No, I do not." 

"Well I need you to fill out a form sir. Everyone receiving emergency or walk-in treatment has to fill it out," Tommy explained enthusiastically. 

"Very well." The spiky-haired man sighed. 

Tommy then handed him a veritable booklet while wearing a big ol' grin on his oily face. 

"Thank you... Thomas," the elegant man said smoothly and gravely. 

"Tommy," the balding receptionist corrected. 

To this the blue-haired man raised an equally blue eyebrow. He turned away from the rude worker and strode towards the seating area. He placed the clipboard onto one of the seats then unbuttoned his cape and hung it on the wood coat rack. Now that the cloak was off one could see that it was hiding an equally splendid ensemble. The dark robes he wore had a regal yet military design. The right side of the top was sleeveless to accommodate for his prosthetic arm, which had a significantly larger shoulder plate than his flesh and blood counterpart. The hand that completed the limb was clawed and bent. Also with the cloak off you could see the man's hairstyle in it's entirety. While it was spiky at the crown, his hair flowed slightly past his shoulder in the back. 

As usual, Phillip is taking in all that is occurring around him. "Boy, this guy is a character. Understated but still a character and look at that mullet," he mused. "Thank you... Thomas," he repeated, trying to obtain the regal timbre of the blue-haired man. He failed miserably, mainly because he fell victim to a fit a giggles. Laughter and graveness do not go hand-in-hand. 

The man finally sat down, leaving a chair between Sydney and his self. He gives Sydney a respectful nod, which the blonde man returns in kind. Using his left hand the man picked up the clipboard from the otherwise vacant seat and placed it on his lap. He started inspecting the humongous form and sighed again. 

Sydney looked over with sympathy in his eyes. He noticed that the man sitting next to him has a form that was several times as thick as his. "Hey it might not be as bad as all that. You might find some loop holes and be done sooner than you think," he said in a conspiratory whisper with a wink at the end. 

"One can hope," the spiky haired man finished with a chuckle. 

"If you have insurance it'll be a walk in the park." The blonde laughed merrily. 

"By the way I'm Sydney. Sydney Losstarot." 

"Folken Fanel, pleased to make your acquaintance." 

The two men then shake hands. Unfortunately due to Folken's hand being damaged, they had to shake using their sinister hand. 

A/N: When I look back over this chapter I'm seeing a lot of inadvertent puns. I left them in there so maybe I'm just corny. Okay yeah, I'm corny. GET OVER IT!! Next chapter we'll find out how Folken damages his hand. If I was the betting sort of girl I would wager _$1_ that Dilandau is involved. XD 


	6. When the funk hits the fan

A/N: Hey people this chapter is going to have Folken a little OOC (sorry). After looking at episode 6 of Escaflowne, I just thought there is no way Folken could let Dilandau get away with that crap. Well, there's going to be some rehashing of dialogue from that episode but hopefully it won't suck too bad. 

Maintenance Chapter 5

For the past few minutes Folken and Sydney have been working on their patient forms. Sydney was nearing the final stretch. At long last he has come to the signature line. Sydney was just too pleased with himself. 

"Hmm, just sign my name like so," he thought out loud. He then wrote his name quite nicely if he had to say so himself. 

**Signature** Sydney Losstarot 

"Well it's time to see my favorite person in the whole wide world!" he said with a triumphant smirk. Sydney rose from his seat and strolled leisurely towards the receptionist desk. 

"Tommy, I am finally finished," Sydney stated dramatically, placing the clipboard on the desk. "What are you doing doing?" Sydney inquired, interested in the images on the computer monitor. 

Tommy sighed expansively and turned around. He had not expected Sydney to be done with the form quite this soon. It should have taken him at least another twenty minutes. "I'm playing a game." 

"What game?" 

"A card game," Tommy says slowly. 

"Yes, that's fairly obvious. What is the name of this card game and what is the objective?" 

"This game is called Free Cell. What you have to do is try to move all the cards into these slots," he pointed to the four slots in the upper-right hand corner, "each suit has it's own slot." Tommy continued to explain the rules to Sydney. 

Phillip was listening to their conversation thinking that something was going to jump off. "BOOOORING! I could have been looking at Jerry Springer in the sanitation ship's rec room." He decided to see how Folken was faring on his form. 

Folken appeared to be lost in thought holding a non descript blue pen absently in his left hand. His attention definitely wasn't on the forms, his eyes seemed to be looking _through_ the form. He shook himself out of his reverie and focused on the material in front of him. He soon was finished with the first page which consisted of basic information. He went to the next page. 

"Not too bad thus far," Folken thought. He spotted the insurance section. "A ghost of a smile forms on his lips as he thinks back to the sociable blonde's comment. He goes to the coat rack and pulled his wallet out of an inside pocket on his cloak. He sat back down and quickly obtains his insurance card. 

"I suppose being a government official _occasionally_ has some benefits," he thought with some sadness. He like other officials and most lower level workers in the Zaibach Empire have Humana of Zaibach as their insurance carrier, the dental plan was especially sweet (they cover braces). Also, because Folken is the Strategos, or head tactician and inventor he was number two in the hierarchy of the Zaibach government. And when you're at the top, one doesn't have to worry about the co-payment. Yet, Folken has paid the price many times over. A single tragic event ten years ago lead to his current station in life and the loss of his right arm. 

"Maybe I went too far," Folken thought as he inspected his ruined metal hand. The damage was so severe that even he could not repair it. Nevertheless, there was a small part of him that was glad he dropped his cool façade for that brief moment. 

************Start Flashback************

Folken had just finished his meeting with King Aston of Asturia. All in all he felt it went quite well, even with that knight, Allen Chezar's meddling. With his business done, it was time to return to the Vione. He walked at a sedate pace, passing many merchant stalls. It was unfortunate that he did not have time to look for gifts for Naria and Eriya. He hasn't been able to spend much time with them...not like he did when they were little kittens. 

He reached the overpass that lead to the harbor, passing by two Zaibach soldiers. They were chatting it up before they noticed Folken but immediately stood at attention when they saw that the Strategos was approaching. He then passed through several darkened alleys that a lesser man would be reluctant to enter; it was at this time he heard light rapid footfalls. He didn't bother turning around because he already knew who it was. Van. 

Folken was crossed a bridge over a canal, as he reached the other side his carriage approached. Punctuality at it's best. As he reached the vehicle, Van called out to him. This confrontation was very difficult for Folken. He just hoped that his brother would understand why he was doing all this. But Van was stubborn, as he was even as a little boy. That willfulness was one of the qualities Folken admired about his younger brother but right now it was very trying. Folken could only speak what he believed deep in his heart, what he believed Zaibach fought for, his whole reason for living. 

"We fight to end conflict. To bring forth a new order. This is a true holy war." 

"You mean fighting to bring an end to fighting? I think you'll find no such thing," Van stated with equal conviction. 

"Van come with me. Come, so that we may create a new world," Folken said as he thought "Why doesn't he understand." 

"Brother," Van said, at a lost for words.

"It looks like I'm getting through to him," Folken thought. 

The next moments went by so fast. The girl with the short brown hair he saw on the Vione came seemingly out of nowhere, running for all she was worth calling his brother's name. Van look up to the sky with a look full of shock and terror and then the girl yelled a warning and tackled him. Where Van stood on the bridge seconds ago, there was a large smoking hole. 

Folken immediately looked towards the Vione. He knew exactly who was responsible for this treachery. "Dilandau? How _dare_ you interfere," Folken thought heatedly. 

"I see. So, this is how Zaibach operates, huh?" Van asked, feeling even more betrayed. 

"This was not my intent," Folken stated in an emotionless tone that matched the equally blank expression on his face. His thoughts were not so placid...they were absolutely murderous. All he could see was red. 

"Is that all you have to say?" Van asked, his voice carrying a range of emotions: hurt, anger, growing hatred. 

The situation was getting tense when a light voice ranged out. "Lord Van!" Merle exclaimed, relieved that Van was all right despite what that crazy girl Hitomi was saying. 

"Same old overprotective Merle," Folken thought with an inward smile that overpowered the boiling anger-momentarily. Behind Merle was a group of Asturian soldiers. Folken used this distraction to make his departure. 

It didn't take long to reach the Vione, maybe a half an hour. During this time various violent thoughts ran through Folken's mind. He couldn't kill or maim the coward though, Lord Dornkirk evidently needed him for something. This was the second time that lunatic tried to kill his brother. He just didn't understand this sick fixation Dilandau had on Van. The first time Van was able to defend himself. He shivered internally just thinking about it. Van surely would have died if Folken did not return his sword. And that girl... that girl with the strange hair and clothing she intervened then too. "Van the gods must have sent you a guardian angel," Folken thought with a sad smile.

He reran the conversation he had with Van in his mind. "This was not my intent," Folken wanted to cringe at the lameness of that statement. "Damn, that was a bloody brilliant response," he thought. It was at that point Folken decided what he wanted, no _needed_ to do to Dilandau. 

Once he returned to the Vione, Folken spotted one of the Dragon Slayers in a darkened hallway. He didn't know which one, they all look the same to him; they all looked like girls. 

"Would you tell your patron that I want to see him in the antechamber immediately," Folken stated with steely formality. 

"Y-Yes sir, Lord Folken," the unknown Dragon Slayer said while cowering. 

Folken went to the chamber that was adjacent to the 'communications' room. He did not have to wait long before Dilandau showed up, smirking as usual. 

"Yes, Strategos?" Dilandau said in a mock servile tone. The head Dragonslayer had a bandage on his cheek that covered the 'disfiguring' gash that Van gave him.

While in the carriage, Folken decided that he needed to give Dilandau a taste of his own medicine. So he slapped him soundly using his left hand... on the still healing wound. The sound echoed through the room. 

"Dilandau. I don't know what your malfunction is," he punctuated that statement with another slap, "when I told you to acquire Escaflowne, you heard burn down Fanalia." He delivered another slap, harder this time. 

Dilandau was so shocked that Folken slapped him he was paralyzed. He knew he would be reprimanded, but he wasn't expecting this. And here he was thinking his cheek was stinging earlier that day. 

"Then last week you tried to kill Van." Slap. At this time blood started to appear on the dressing on Dilandau's cheek. 

"And now you pull a stunt like this." Slap.

"Good thing I'm ambidextrous," Folken thought. 

As Folken spoke his voice was so cold and distant. For the final blow he balled his fist and punched Dilandau square in the jaw. The force of the blow sent Dilandau sprawling on the ground. 

"No independent thinking. You do what _I_ tell you to do." 

"Ughhh," Dilandau groaned from the floor. 

Folken then turned his back on Dilandau and proceeded to leave the room. But all the anger hadn't left him. He wanted to kill Dilandau in there. As he was leaving he punched a pillar in the room with his metallic hand. Evidently he hit it helluva hard because there was a considerable dent. 

"That is definitely being docked from his pay," Folken thought dryly. 

Dilandau was rising from the floor when Folken punched the pillar. He promptly fainted when he realized that could have been his face. 

When Folken went to his chambers he reached up with his right hand to unclasp his cloak, but for some reason it wasn't quite working. He looked down at his hand and saw that it was mangled. 

"Aw hell," he said flatly. 

************End Flashback************

Folken shook himself yet again out of his reverie. He looked at the clock, he had spaced out for a good 5 minutes. He turned his attention back to the form. He immediately brightened when he spotted a question concerning prior visits. Because he had been to Flexco before all he had to do now was sign the page. 

**Signature** Folken Lacour de Fanel

He got up to give the form to that rude receptionist, Thomas. Folken definitely did not see him during his prior visits. The previous receptionist, she had been quite pleasant. 

  
  
  
  
  


A/N: Yeah-yeah, Folken was a little OOC but I just couldn't let what Dilandau did ride. And plus we didn't see what Folken said or did to Dilandau after that so...this is my interpretation. All you Dilandau fans, I apologize again. Feel free to send me some flames as tribute for your boy. Oh yeah if any one knows which Dragon Slayers are which could you leave it in your review or email me. This chapter was a big sticking point for me I'm glad it's over. Well Jet Black is coming into the fray next chapter...I wonder what his problem is. 


	7. What the hell kinda name is Jet Black?

Disclaimer: Same old same old. Don't own Sydney, Folken, or Jet. They own me! I do own the evil Tommy and the easily amused Phillip. 

Chapter 6

"This game is so much fun, if not a little simple," Sydney said lightly. 

With Sydney's assistance Tommy had won his last two games. He was reluctant to listen at first but Sydney saw opportunities that he just could not. Some seemed rather risky and they argued for a little while. 

"Okay Mr. Losstarot, would you please return to your seat?" 

"Tommy, you don't want me around anymore?" Sydney asked. 

"Well I'm through playing this game now." Sydney had taken all the fun out of it. For now anyway. 

Folken reached the desk and handed Tommy the form. 

"Is this your first time here." He glanced at the form, "Mr. Fanel?" 

"No." 

Tommy opened Folken's file on the computer and inputted some information. 

"The Doctor will be with you as soon as possible." 

"Thank you." 

Folken returned to his seat. All he could do was wait. 

The two men sat in companionable silence for a while until there was a loud ruckus outside that sound like the engines of a plane. Through the window Folken, Sydney, and of course Phillip could see the dust being disturbed by a beat up brown space ship descending. 

"Amazing," Folken thought, "Something that large flying without the use of Levistones." 

Sydney wasn't really one for things of scientific or technological nature but he did have to admit it was quite awe inspiring. Philip thought it was just plain awesome...but it was ugly as all get out. Finally the large metal contraption landed smoothly. After a while a lone figure emerged. It was definitely a male from the height and breadth of the person. He was clothed in a cream-colored suit and wearing a matching fedora hat. As he strolled to the building he paused and took of the jacket and draped it over his left arm. When he entered the building he nodded at Tommy with a tip of his hat and walked towards him. 

"Yes, can I help you?" Tommy sneered. The day he fills in for Rhonda would be the day everyone wanted to come. 

The man looked at the nametag. "Yeah. You sure can, Tommy. I have a 12:50 appointment," he said amiably. 

"What is your name sir?" 

"Jet Black." 

Phillip thought that was such a cool name. Jet kind of reminded him of the old school players like Humphrey Bogart and Cary Grant. He looked like a detective or something. This guy looked like he'd seen some action. He had a scar that bisected his still intact left eye. Underneath this same eye was a small metal plate. "I wonder what this guy's deal is?" 

"_What the hell kind of name is Jet Black_," Tommy thought spitefully. What he said out loud was "Is this your first time here Mr. er, Black? 

"No." 

"Well if you would just have a seat over there," Tommy said while pointing to the waiting area. His attention then returned to the computer. 

"Sure thing," Jet said pleasantly. Jet's grandma, God bless her soul, taught him that when people are rude just get even sweeter and if that doesn't work... well you might have to kick some ass. 

As Jet walked the few yards to his seat he really got a good look at other two men for the first time. He could only mentally shake his head. 

"What's up with these guys?" he wondered. 

  
  
  
  
  


A/N: Short very short. Sucked really sucked. Well at least Tommy stopped playing Freecell, but his computer problems are not over. And what's up with Jet's hand and what does a homicidal clown to do with its current condition? You'll find out next chapter...I promise! *crosses fingers behind her back* No really! 


End file.
